


Miraculous: Choose Your Own Adventure

by Word_Devourer



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: 'Canoodling', Birthday Presents, Chat Noir Being Uncertain, Choose Your Own Adventure, Depending on your choices, Eavesdropping, Flustered Chat Noir, Interviews, Master of the Crowd Chat Noir, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, also, flustered marinette, same for ships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-01-23 19:20:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18556165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Word_Devourer/pseuds/Word_Devourer
Summary: Marinette is down to the wire, working on a gift for Alya's birthday, when Chat Noir comes calling with a question.And now... She has a choice to make.In fact, everybody's going to have a choice or two to make, by the end.





	1. Questions and Commitments

_Name: Marinette Dupain-Cheng_

_Appearance:  Average height and build.  Hair, black, kept in short, neat pigtails.  Eyes, unexpectedly blue._

_Characteristics:  Young teenager, aspiring fashion designer.  Smart, capable.  Best friends with Alya Cesaire.  Crush on Adrien Agreste.  Dislikes Chloe Bourgeois, Lila Rossi.  Unbeknownst to the world, she is secretly Ladybug, defender of Paris._

_\--_

Marinette’s hands moved quickly, no time to waste in her motions, needle feverishly affixing the final patches to a jacket.  Usually, this would be a matter of minutes, but as it was, she’d still probably run late if the slightest thing went wrong, and then her friends would be forced to _wait_ for her, or else move on without her, and neither was a pleasant idea.

She groaned.

Technically speaking, it wasn’t like she couldn’t just give the jacket to Alya some other day, but on the other hand, if she didn’t bring it today, she’d probably have to _wait_ , and that would be an undeniable struggle, since she’d constantly be tempted to send pictures, or…

That was the problem with making gifts for your best friend, of course.  The person you could usually tell about your secret projects was completely off limits for the task.

3 minutes, and… _maybe._   Just, _maybe,_ she could make this, if _nothing_ else went wrong.

That meant no sudden derailment of her train of thought, no broken threads, bent needles, and most of all-

There was a knock on the door, and she grimaced.

_-no interruptions._

“I’m a little busy!” she said, not looking up.  “Can it wait?”

“Oh,” came a voice, but not… Not the voice of one of her parents.  “Sorry, I just…”

Mentally, she recalibrated.  The knock hadn’t come from her door.

“Chat Noir?” she said.

“Uh… Yes?”

She looked down at the jacket, so close to completion, and then at the clock, and then…

“The door’s unlocked,” she said, “come on in.”

Chat Noir dropped down onto her bed.

“I guess… I’m interrupting?” He said.

“Yup,” she said, “but…  If it’s anything urgent, I can put this off a bit.”

“Uh…” he said, “Actually, it’s…  Well.  It’s not, _not_ urgent.”

“Really,” she said, “And what do you,” she managed to find a bit of purchase with her needle that had been eluding her, “mean by that?”

“It’s…  About Ladybug?”

She froze, and then, with an effort, kept moving, trying to pass the instant off as nothing more than confusion at the sentence.

“Okay?  You’d be better off asking Alya.”

“Hm,” he said, and she could hear the doubt in his voice.

Her hands didn’t stop.

“I’m not sure she is, though.”

“Oh?  Why’s that?”

“Well…” he said, “It’s not anything I’d be sure of, but it seems like you… Know her?”

“That’s a strange conclusion to come to,” she said.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in person, even.”

Chat Noir sighed.  “I… Right.  It’s just… I was thinking, and I realized, I never figured out how you contacted her when Evillustrator attacked.  But, you must have, right?  Ladybug told me where to find you, while she was off doing… Something else.”

“I see…”

“So, somehow, you got ahold you of her, right?  So I was thinking…”

 _Thinking she must have had some kind of special way to do it._   He wasn’t exactly _wrong._

She hesitated, but then… If she denied a connection to Ladybug, there was every chance he’d start looking for another explanation, and there was every chance he’d come to the _true_ conclusion; the one she _really_ didn’t want him to come to.

Under two minutes left before she _had_ to leave.

The jacket was close to finished.

She sighed.  “Alright.  Fine.  Yes, I know how to get ahold of her.  That’s all I’m saying about it, though.”

“And do you… know her?  Not… Like…” he sighed.  “You know how to find her, but, does she… talk, to you?” She didn’t need to turn around to recognize the hopeful tone in his voice.

“Are you asking me to tell you her secrets?”

“Oh…  No, actually.  It’s… I’d ask, _her,_ but… I just…”  He seemed to be at a loss, for once.  “I’m… Kind of scared to, actually.”

She laughed.  “Scared?  You.  I didn’t know you were capable of feeling anything other than confidence…” she glanced at the clock, and… The last minute had ticked over.  “Well, ask away, but I’ve got less than a minute before I _have_ to leave.”

He let out an annoyed noise.  “This… Might take a bit longer than a minute.”

“What kind of question is it?”  One final stitch, and…

“It’s…” he let out a pained groan.  “Just… Don’t, tell her I asked you, okay?”

She turned around, jacket in hand.  He seemed to almost cringe away as she looked around.  Embarrassed?  She would have doubted it was possible, but… He was.

“I won’t,” she said.

He nodded, slowly, and then… “I know… That she doesn’t like me… like… _that._   But… I also know that she’s careful about… Staying safe, when she’s Ladybug, and even if she did…  She probably wouldn’t tell me.  So…” he shrugged.  “I know there’s nothing I can do to _force_ her to like me, and, obviously, she’s practically my best friend, and I wouldn’t trade that for the world, but, if there wasn’t Hawkmoth, or…” he sighed, “whoever it is she already likes…” he trailed off, and…

His meaning was clear.

Unfortunately, Marinette, and by extension, Ladybug, was at a loss.

The alarm on her phone rang.

“That’s…” she said, and…

 

She had a choice to make:

  1. She had a commitment to get to. She had a jacket to get to Alya, and her friends would be waiting for her _._   Surely Chat Noir could wait until she got back, at least until she got back (it wasn’t like she have to stick around more than half an hour).  Besides, she could use the time to come up with her answer.
  2. Then again… If she sent him away, or left him here, she’d be leaving him to worry for an uncomfortable span of time. Not to mention, _she_ would be worrying about it, not least because there was every chance of him poking around, and potentially finding, if nothing else, the few pictures she still had of Adrien.  Besides, how hard could it be to come up with an answer on the fly?  The odds she’d slip up and reveal her identity were minimal!
  3. Something else…?




	2. Birthday Parties and Flashing Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not up for debate; Marinette has to go to Alya's birthday party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The votes came out:  
> 1: 7  
> 2: 4  
> 3: 4
> 
> Making it a certainty that Marinette had to go see Alya. Some of the 3 votes picked out a useful detail, however.

This was obviously important to him.  And, just as on _any_ of the rare occasions he showed something approaching vulnerability, it was important to her, too.

But…

She looked down at the jacket.

She had to get to Alya.  It was nonnegotiable.

“I’m sorry, Chat Noir, I need to go, _right now,_ or I’m _going_ to be late, and it’s my friend’s birthdays, and…” She sighed, “If… If you want to stick around, I could duck out early, maybe, or…”

How was she supposed to just leave him here?  But then, did she even have a choice?

Maybe…  Maybe she did?

She had to go, of course, but… just on the edge of her mind, she found something, some fragment of her mind suggesting…

“Or… You could, come with me, and I could talk about it on the way?”

He perked up.

“If you like, I could even carry you!  Tell me, Marinette, how do you feel about flying across the city in the arms of a superhero?”

She snorted.  “Imagine what the press would say.  It’d be about the same as…”  She stifled both statements that linked her and Adrien together in the press’ mind.

“Mixing fire and gasoline?”

“Sounds about right.  Meet me out by the front door, and try not to look like the real Chat Noir.”

He gave her a roguish grin.  “Some things, I’m afraid, cannot be concealed.”

So saying, he leaped back up, and out the door in the ceiling.

She climbed down the stairs, two at a time; by all rights she was already behind schedule, but 2 minutes wasn’t as bad as it might be.

It was strange, she thought, that he managed to simultaneously be so nervous, and scared, and… Somehow, still act like he was… Not the cat’s meow, _anything_ but the cat’s meow.

Well, it was how he _tried_ to act.

With a shouted goodbye to her parents, she was out the door.

He was, of course, already waiting for her.

“Well then,” he said, “Where will I be accompanying you?”

“To my friend’s house.”

“The one you made that jacket for?”

Marinette held it up, smiling.  “Yup.  It’s her birthday, and I thought she might like this.”

“No kidding,” he said, and then… Looked away, almost worried.  He shook his head.  “Anyway.  I guess…  Well.”

“Yeah,” she said, as the tone of the conversation _dropped_.

“So…?”

She sighed.  “Listen.  It’s a difficult thing to tell you what Ladybug thinks.  Superheroes have to keep their secrets close.”

He nodded, softly.

“But I’ve never seen her do anything to make me think she feels like that about you.  Or… That she would.”

“I… Assumed.”  He said.  As she looked over, his expression was crumpled; the expression of someone trying to hold something back.

He failed.

“But, have you seen anything that makes you sure that she wouldn’t?”

She gave him a gentle smile.  “Chat Noir…”

\--

_Name: Chat Noir_

_Appearance:  Average height and slightly heavier set than average, as a superhero.  Hair, blonde, left in a mess.  Eyes, a striking green._

_Characteristics:  Young teenager, defender of Paris.  Capable of destroying any one thing he touches, at the price of returning to his civilian form 5 minutes later.  Dashing, and witty, at least in his own mind.  Close friends with Ladybug, and glad of it, though he wishes she felt about him as he does about her.  A staunch opponent of Hawkmoth.  Unbeknownst to the world, he is secretly Adrien Agreste, a rich model, with little to no personal freedom._

\--

He sighed.  “I know, I know.  It’s not like…  Like you can ever _predict_ that kind of thing with certainty, right?”

She laughed.  “I mean, we’re friends, I think, but that doesn’t mean that…”  She trailed off, seemingly embarrassed by her example.

He grimaced, and tried to respond appropriately.  “I… Yeah.  Yeah, you’re right.  It’s not something I’ve ever really considered.”  It was sort of a lie, though only because his mind had a nasty habit of bringing her up at the worst possible moment.

They walked in silence for a moment. 

“Well,” she said.  “If nothing else, it’s looking like I might have disproven our assumption about how long it would take to explain things.”

He laughed.  “Yeah… I suppose you did.”

“I mean… Unless you’ve got anything else you were planning to ask?”

“Um…” he was still wondering whose birthday he hadn’t been invited to, or… Maybe he _did_ remember Nino asking him whether he was free today?

“No, I don’t think there’s anything else,” he said.

“Well, that’s good, at least,” she said.

They walked on again.

“I notice that even though you’re done, we’re still walking together,” she said.

“Ah,” he said, abashed, “I suppose, I should be going, then?”

“Actually…” she said, with the air of someone coming up with a devious scheme, “that depends.  Did you have anywhere you needed to be?”

He blinked.  He… Didn’t, for once.  It was the only reason he’d felt comfortable to come and visit Marinette so early in the day.

“Well… No,” he said.

She smiled.  “Well… Tell you what, the jacket was supposed to be my gift, but I bet she’d be just as excited to have you there.”

“Well…” he said.

“Of course… She’ll probably try and drag you into an interview, but… I get the feeling that’s not a big concern for you.”

Any remaining doubt he might have had about the party’s occupant vanished.  That _had_ to be Alya.

That being the case, they were almost to the right building, and there was no _way_ he was going to turn down-

There was a _flash,_ and he grimaced.  He turned, to the sight of a man with a camera, grinning like a kid of Christmas.  Three more flashes in quick succession, and he turned away, rapidly changing apps on his phone, which in Chat Noir’s limited experience, meant he was _sending_ it somewhere, which meant…

He swore internally.  They’d been _so close,_ and now…

He had a choice to make:

  1. This man couldn’t stop them from doing whatever they wanted. They just needed to keep walking, and they’d be out of sight soon enough.  He’d had enough photoshoots to last him a lifetime, and not _nearly_ enough birthday parties for his friends.
  2. If they kept walking, the man might follow, and then there was every chance that he’d see where they’d gone and… Even if he didn’t successfully figure out _where_ in the building they’d gone, it couldn’t be good, right? He needed to stop, and distract the man, to break the trail, letting Marinette get away.
  3. Something else…?




	3. Interviews and Canoodling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chat Noir handles a little paparazzi problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1: 1  
> 2: 1  
> 3: 4 (split 3, 1)  
> Selection: 'Own the situation.'

They’d been so close, and now…

Alright.

Alright, he could _handle_ this.

And no, _not_ by threatening to level a _cataclysm_ on the man.

“Try to be inconspicuous for a second,’ he whispered, and turned.

Marinette nodded, as he turned back towards the man.

“Well, well, _well!”_ he said, loudly, strutting over.

The man looked up, seemingly surprised he’d actually, what, _responded?_   Well, maybe Adrien would have tried to keep out of sight, and just walked away, but Chat Noir… Well, Chat Noir was a different story.

And more to the point, Chat Noir got taken a little more seriously than the average 14-year-old.

“C’mon,” he said, winking, “I’m trying to stay out of sight, here!”

“W-  What?” said the man, his phone hovering near his waist.

Chat Noir nodded his head from side to side, smiling.  “Well… Let me put it this way; if Hawkmoth gets wind of where I am, _while_ I’m there, things get a little dangerous, you know?”

“Uh-  Oh!  I, uh-

“Plus, I don’t want to make it _that_ obvious that there’s an interview coming out soon for the Ladyblog, that would just be…”  He stopped, and let out a tiny gasp, before continuing, “Well, forget I said anything about it.  You know the girl who runs the blog?  Well, she loves to keep her schedule a secret, so her viewers aren’t bored of something by the time she releases it, and…  Ah, I’m just spilling _more_ secrets now, right?  Share my own identity next if I’m not careful.”

“Oh, right!  Well, obviously, that wouldn’t be good,” said the man, looking down as if he wouldn’t have killed to be the one to share Chat Noir’s identity.

“No!  It wouldn’t be!” he said, brightly, ignoring the lie.  “Of course, that’s not to say that I’m _averse_ to pictures, but you’ve got to do it _right!_ ”

“Do it… Right?”  The man was obviously lost, at this point, which was perfect.

“You know…” he said, though the man obviously didn’t, “get my good angle, or,” he barked with laughter, jabbing an elbow into the man’s side, “my _best_ angle, right?”

Marinette was leaned up against a wall, as requested, acting unobtrusive, and she raised her eyebrows at that.

He winked back.

“So, let’s see, you pop that camera back up, right?”

“Uh- Oh!  Yeah, right, I guess I’ll-

“ _There_ we go!” said Chat Noir, pulling the man’s hand out to bring them both into frame.

_Click._

“Oh, that’s a better one, see?”

“I-  I guess?”  He was clearly bewildered by the turn things had taken.

“And-“ _click_ “not bad, but I think-“ he pulled a dashing smile, and _click_.  “oh, I like it, and-“ _click,_ “Oh… No, that’s not a good one, one second.”

“Are you the real Chat Noir?” came a woman’s voice from nearby.

He swore internally, but outwardly took the chance to spin around, grinning.  “Sure am, ma’am, and-“ he gave a jaunty grin over his shoulder at the man.  “Let me just say, I am _not_ at my best in candids.”  The pictures of him with Marinette?  Gone, one after another.

“There we go,” he said, turning back, “that’s got you a couple pictures up close and personal.  That’s gotta be good value, right?”

“I-“ said the man, desperately trying to act as if half the point hadn’t been getting him unaware.  Adrien was well aware of paparazzi.

“Can you do a pose?” said the woman, her own phone out now.

More people were passing by, now, and getting sucked in.  Curse his magnetic personality!

_Heh.  Purr-sonality, more like._

_…_

In the end, it took him about 5 minutes of posing to feel as if he’d given the crowd enough to justify not giving them any more.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen,” he called, “I’m very sorry, but I’m afraid that I’m _already_ running late for a bit of a pressing engagement.  I really can’t stay any later.”

“Villain to fight?” called someone in the crowd.

“Hah!  Not unless Hawkmoth’s been busy in the last few minutes,” he said, “no, you should find out all about it in a couple days!”

He caught the whisper in the crowd.  _“It’s an interview.”  Perfect._

“You’ve been a lovely crowd,” he said, “and it’s been a pleasure!”

And with that, he leaped, over their heads, in the general direction he’d seen Marinette when he’d perched on his baton at a request from the audience.

Sure enough she was there, but she didn’t wait for him to get close.

Instead, as soon as he leaped, she was already walking away at a fair clip.

He managed to nonchalantly walk after her at about twice the speed a normal person walked.

He knew the crowd would be following him, or… Well, _some_ of them.  That wasn’t the issue.

The issue was that he wouldn’t exactly be able to talk to Marinette, and _she_ was the one who knew where he was going, and, as such, the only way he’d be able to correctly get to Alya’s apartment.

She turned, and walked into a building.

He could hear footsteps behind him, but he’d just have to give them the slip somehow.

He turned sharply, and saw Marinette, looking back.

He followed, and…

The stairs.  Perfect.  They couldn’t check the floor if he took the stairs, and with any luck, he’d be in Alya’s apartment by the time anyone hit her floor.

He followed her into the stairwell, and-

“Top floor, 05,” she said, shortly.

He nodded, and started sprinting.

At a dead sprint, no civilian could have caught him, so he needn’t have worried, but somehow, there was something about being chased, no matter how slow the pursuer, that put him on edge.

And so it was that, a little red in the face, he made it to the top floor.

He stepped out of the stairwell, and immediately…

She wouldn’t have even needed to tell him what apartment, since the door was open, and the sound of conversation was diffusing itself through the air.

He stepped near the door, but… stopped.  Should he wait for Marinette, or…

“Ten minutes, now,” said Alya, from inside.

“If she’s not here in the next five, we’re legally allowed to leave,” came Nino’s voice.

Alya giggled, gently.  “Yeah…  Maybe we’ll go see _her._   Or…” she snorted, “we could even go crazy, try sneaking into Adrien’s room.”

“Yeah… I don’t like our odds on that one.  Pretty sure security’s _real_ tight.”  Nino sighed.  “His dad just…” he trailed off, and Chat Noir, _Adrien,_ could see him shaking his head in his mind’s eye.

Alya sighed, and then laughed.  “Maybe we should get Marinette on that one.  Bet you _she_ could cook up some way to get him out of there.”

“Bet you she already has.”

“Alright, how about this, I’ll take your bet she knows how, and raise you that she's already _acted_ on it _._ ”

Nino laughed.  “Right, and _that’s_ why she’s late.  She’s just, _in_ Adrien’s room.”

He blinked.

“Mm.  Do you think he knows?”

Nino seemed to consider the idea.  “He’s probably noticed the room getting hotter from how hard she’s blushing.”

His head bent slightly, as if he was trying to look _through_ the doorframe.   _Blushing?  Marinette?_

He’d eavesdropped too much, and Marinette was surely almost to the top of the stairs.

He put a foot forward, as Alya was already halfway through…

“Hah!  Or, maybe, the stammering and stuttering is all a cover, and _secretly_ she’s already doing a bit of _canoodling.”_

It felt as if he’d turned the corner, and immediately been slapped with a wet fish.

Even his legendary charisma didn’t have a ready answer for _canoodling._

He had-  He-  He needed to say _something_ :

  1. “Canoodling you say? Sounds like _my_ kind of conversation.”
  2. “Sorry to interrupt, but did someone order a special interview for the Ladyblog?”
  3. Something else…?




	4. Now and Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chat Noir shows weakness, and leaves himself open to repercussions, though, in fairness, repercussions that were not intended to hit so hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1: 2  
> 2: 6
> 
> Short chapter this time, but there was a perfect fork in the road, sitting right there.

_“Canoodling!”_ he spluttered, and then- _wait, no, he was smooth, suave, Chat Noir!_

Theoretically, anyway.

“I- You-“ he grasped for any words that could-  “Well- that doesn’t, sound, like, the kind of word you would use in an impromptu interview for the Ladyblog!”

Of course, it was a bit less smooth than if he’d leaned into the sudden situation, but… Well, now he wouldn’t have to spend as much time talking about it.

They were staring at him.

He was supposed to land on his feet, right?

“Because, you know,” he said, managing to mentally push his way to his feet, “I heard it was a special birthday today, and you have a friend with a knack for getting good gifts.” He winked, and prayed that they’d ignore what he’d been acting like 10 seconds ago.

Alya squinted at him, and then stood up.

He fought the urge to back away, as she stepped up close to him.

She looked him up and down, and then… Stepped back.

After a second, she let out a light ‘huh,’ with the expression of one who knew the what, but was a little lost on the _how._

And then her eyes focused behind him, and he just _knew_ that-

“Marinette?” said Alya.

“Ah!  Alya!” called Marinette from behind him.  “Sorry I’m late, I got a bit hung up on the road.”

He laughed.  _This_ he could do.  “Actually, I think the credit for that belongs to me.  I had a little bit of…” he shrugged, “ _posing,_ to do, and she was showing me how to get here, so she had to wait, too.”

\--

_Name: Alya Cesaire_

_Appearance:  Average height and build.  Hair, auburn, kept long and loose.  Eyes, a mild grey-brown, at odds with her personality._

_Characteristics:  Young teenager, aspiring journalist.  Creator of the popular ‘Ladyblog,’ dedicated to information regarding Paris’ resident superheroes.  Keen-eyed and quick witted, with a knack for scratching away at questions until they turn into answers.  Best friends with Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and currently in a relationship with Nino Lahiffe.  Has an intense distaste for liars and poor journalism._

\--

Alya stepped back.

"So, you got... You literally got Chat Noir to come do a personal interview for my birthday?"

Marinette seemed a little bit lost, but, "Do you like it?"

She laughed.  "You sure know how to make a girl feel loved, but, well, of all the reasons Marinette _might_ have been late, ‘waiting for Chat Noir to finish posing’ didn’t even make the top ten.”

Nino laughed, and said, in his closest voice to sarcasm, “Yeah, and we were really trying to figure it out.”

Chat Noir let out a strangled noise, and she remembered what _exactly_ he’d come in on.

“Yeah, we thought you might have been trying to break Adrien out of his room…  Or that you might have gotten _distracted_ while you were there.”

 _“Alya!”_ said both of her visitors in unison, before shooting an almost _scared_ look at each other.

She responded with her best fake _surprised_ expression.  “Sorry.  Sorry, guess I hit a nerve there.”

“I mean…?” said Marinette, managing to imply with a vague motion of her hand at her side that this was an issue because Chat Noir was here.

Nino laughed.  “C’mon; dude’s a superhero.  He’s gotta be pretty good at keeping secrets, right?”

“Okay, well,” said Marinette, looking down, “just because someone can keep a secret doesn’t mean you want to _tell_ them your secret!”

Oh.  Okay.  Um… judging by the looks she was getting, her predilection for pushing at questions might have gone… A little too far.

Marinette seemed uncomfortable to a degree beyond where Alya was willing to put her through teasing, and Chat Noir…

Chat Noir had turned extremely red.

Oh… This.  This wasn’t good.

She had a choice to make:

  1. Explain why she hadn’t been too fussed about mentioning this in front of Chat Noir, namely that he’d already overheard it. That would probably explain her, but Chat Noir would probably feel even worse than he apparently already did at the accusation of eavesdropping.  (To attempt this option, skip forward to Chapter 10)
  2. Try to smooth things over for the present, and hope that things could continue normally until she got a chance to explain things to Marinette in private. That would, of course, leave Chat Noir without the opportunity to defend himself, but it would give him a chance to calm down before he had to handle it, at least.
  3. Something else…?




	5. Conversation and Interview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cake! Birthday parties have cake! And surely, nobody can be upset when there's cake available.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1: 4  
> 3: 7  
> Selection: Unsubtle change of topic.
> 
> Technically, one of those 1s was a 3, but it was a '1, but...' so I'll mark it as a one.  
> In either case, 'unsubtle change of topic,' had a supermajority, so it's happening.

This was the wrong moment to handle this.  She could circle back on it later, but for now-

She swore internally, because she was _exactly_ the wrong person to try this, but what choice did she have?

“Wwwell,” she said, “I see I’ve made things a little awkward.  Sorry, this isn’t supposed to be awkward, it’s… Supposed a party!  Do you guys want cake?”

Chat Noir perked up.  “There’s cake?”

She laughed, at his surprised, earnest tone.  “Of course there’s cake.  There’s always cake.”

He looked away, as if surprised, then looked back up, smiling.  “I’m surprised you didn’t get Marinette to bring some from home.”

At the name, Alya glanced over.  Marinette’s expression was even, but clearly displeased.  She was holding onto something, Alya noticed, black, and… Leather?

But, as for cake… Marinette put a mild, lackluster smile on her face, that Alya _knew_ to be fake, and… “I’d be glad to have some cake.”

“Fantastic!” said Alya, a little higher pitched than she would have liked.

She walked _directly_ to the kitchen, and hoped that maybe some food would help.  With any luck, a bit of cake would buy her time to explain things to Marinette, and… The interview… Right.  The questions weren’t the tough part; she had a list prepared for both heroes.  The tricky part was that she’d probably be staying close to Chat Noir, who was really the only person here that she couldn’t explain things to Marinette in front of.

Not… Not that there was anything wrong with him, per se, but if they did this, they’d be talking about him, in front of him, which wasn’t exactly… Good.

She pulled the cover off of the cake, and…

She blinked, because she knew what Marinette had been holding, because...

Marinette was wearing a leather jacket, covered in patches.

\--

Alya didn’t wear leather jackets, theoretically, but Marinette had the intense suspicion that that was more a matter of past habits, and less a matter of any particular animus towards them.

And Marinette got the impression that the decoration would help overcome any lingering uncertainties.

Or, it would have, anyway.

Marinette tried not to let her emotions show on her face.

Surely, it should have gone without saying that you didn’t just share your friends’ secrets like that, right?  And yet…

She took a plate of cake, and returned to the living room.

She sat down, stuck a fork into it.

A bite and… It wasn’t bad cake, but it wasn’t what she needed right now.

She silently tapped her finger on the couch, expression neutral.

It wasn’t even… It wasn’t even that Chat Noir knew, was it?  It was…  Well.  Nothing she could do about it now, anyway.

\--

“That’s good cake,” said Nino.

“Mom repurposed it, straight from work,” said Alya, closing the door; it wasn’t like there was any good reason to keep it open, at this point.  “People weren’t quite hungry enough for it at some gala or other, so she scraped off the frosting, and, well, perfectly serviceable birthday cake, right?”

Chat Noir laughed.  “How’s that saying go?  Waste not, want not?”

“Sounds about right,” she said, “Especially because when Mom, and Dad, and Ella, and Etta, and _Nora_ all get home… We’re having more of the same cake. Not that she can’t afford a cake, obviously; a head chef at an expensive hotel should _never_ go hungry.”

“Oh…” said Chat Noir, nodding, “I forgot she worked there.”

“Wait, you know Alya’s mom?”

“Uh…  I know the name, at least.  Cesaire, right?  Marlena Cesaire?”

“You probably met her back when Kung Food attacked.”

“Right!  That would make sense.  If nothing else, I probably saw the episode of…  What were they filming, again?”

“Oh…” said Alya, trying to remember.  “World’s Greatest Chef?”

“Right!” he sighed.  “I love that show.  The food always looks so good.”

“Yeah, well… You’d be surprised how many awful dishes they get in the early stages of the contest.  Like, Mom’s polite to everyone, but sometimes she just comes home and drinks a half gallon of water to wash the taste out of her mouth.”

Nino snorted.  “Or, if it’s _really_ bad, she drinks vodka instead.”

“Nino…” said Alya, lightly slapping him.

“I’m just saying!” he said, “you’d have no way of knowing.”

There was the sound of the bathroom door closing.

“I would,” said Alya, “because if it was vodka, she’d get alcohol poisoning.  Besides, once or twice, I’ve seen her do it, and gotten a drink from the same pitcher.  It’s always water.”

“Well, every time you’ve tried it, it’s been water,” said Nino.

Chat Noir was leaned up against the corner of her sofa, grinning.

“I get the feeling this is a common point of dispute for you two?”

“As if,” said Alya, “Nino just brings it up because he knows it annoys me.”

“Definitely not!” protested Nino, laughing.

“See what I mean?  There’s no way that’s the voice of a boy who seriously believes what he’s saying.”

“I’m sure Ladybug and I could learn a thing or two from you guys about being in-sync.”

“Yeah, well, _you_ guys save Paris on a daily basis, and Nino and I…”  Alya looked over…

“Well, I don’t think we’ve ever saved Paris _together.”_

Nino snorted.  “Yeah, no, I don’t think so.”

“Separately, though?”

Alya tilted her hand side-to-side, in the manner of one who was an expert in the matter.  “Oh… Once or twice.”

…

She certainly hoped he would assume that was a joke, rather than actually thinking too hard about it.

Hm…

She was a foreboding feeling that if she didn’t do something quickly, there would be trouble.

She had a choice to make:

  1. Bring up the things she did to purposefully annoy Nino, in the same general vodka-drinking vein, and keep Chat Noir’s mind off of hero affairs a little longer, so he wouldn’t be thinking about such people as Rena Rouge and Carapace after she’d said that.
  2. Jump immediately to the interview. There was less danger of him putting two and two together if he was trying to answer questions.  It would be a simple matter to steer clear of ones regarding his part-time associates.
  3. Something else…?



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Choose very carefully.


	6. Serious and Curious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alya decides to keep Chat Noir's mind off of her possible slip-up by bringing up a trivial point between her and Nino

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The choices on this one came out real close.
> 
> 1:2  
> 2:1  
> 3:3
> 
> 2 of the 3s were for the same option, making it a tie with 1. However, since 1s first entry came in before the relevant 3s, it will take precedence.

_“Betrayal.  Always so hard to process.  Secrets that should have been kept safe, given freely to those who should not have them.  And… Perhaps not vengeance, but some way to forget… Yes…  I can arrange that.”_

 

“Well,” she said, “ _Anyway._   It’s not like we’re always so in sync.  It’s hard to be in sync with a boy who thinks 6/8 is a good time signature.”

Chat Noir grinned.

Nino, for his part, put his face forward into his hand, and let out a deep sigh.

“Not this again.”

“Oh, this again,” she said.

“This is what she does when I make jokes.”

“It’s called retaliation, and I get the moral high ground because 6/8 really _is_ garbage.”

“It’s not!  It’s like, waltz, but _more_.  You _like_ waltz.”

“How dare you compare the two!” she said.

He groaned.  “This is… Literally the most pointless argument.”

“Mhm…  You’ve already lost it, so why keep fighting?”

“Because… Alright, alright, lesson learned, I’ll shut up about the vodka thing, if you shut up about 6/8.”

“But why should I?  It’s not like I gain anything from giving up an argument I’m winning.”

“Chat Noir, you’re seeing this, right?  If I go Bubbler again, you’ll know who to blame.”

Alya laughed, and turned to explain that Nino had been the Bubbler, but Chat Noir seemed to have grasped the joke already.

It had been a joke, of course, but something about it prodded the back of Alya’s brain.  Not that she was worried about Nino, but Marinette had been unexpectedly quiet.

She glanced over, and… Marinette wasn’t there.

That… That would certainly explain why she hadn’t said a word this whole time.

The sound of the bathroom door clicked into place in her head.  After all, they were the only people in the apartment, so really, she should have realized sooner.

Internally, she weighed the choice.

No.  Surely… Marinette had seemed fine, and if she’d been a little quiet, well, surely she would have said something before… What, going into the bathroom to cry?

Nino and Chat Noir were talking, but Alya was staring a little uncertainly into the middle distance.

Of course… Marinette…

Alya did the emotional equivalent of mental math.  Marinette would be distressed, and normally that would mean that she’d ask Alya for advice, or comfort, or, something, rather than going off by herself, and… Alya could have kicked herself.

She was used to Marinette’s trouble coming from Chloe, or…

Anybody but her.

And if Marinette couldn’t come to her, then maybe…

“So, about that interview, we’d probably better get started sooner, rather than later?” said Chat Noir.

“Um… In a minute,” said Alya, standing up, abruptly.  “I need to… go check on something.”

“Oh.  Okay?” said Chat Noir.

“I shouldn’t be long, I’m just wondering where Marinette got to.”

“Oh, right.  I saw her get up, I just… Didn’t really think about it.”

“You two can manage by yourselves, right?”

Nino laughed, a trifle nervously.  “Should be just fine.”

“I swear, I’ve seen you on TV once or twice,” said Chat Noir, as she walked away.

A quick turn, and… The bathroom door was closed, as she’d expected.

She stepped up, and… How to do it?

She settled on the simple option.

“Marinette?”

No response.

“Um… Marinette?”  She knocked lightly on the door.

“Yes?” came Marinette’s voice, and Alya breathed a sigh of relief, because it was even, and almost cheerful.

“It’s… Me; you know, Alya, well, obviously you know that, but… I was wondering if you were doing okay in there, and…”  She trailed off, her normally sharp mind for speech a bit unsure.  If Marinette was fine, should she still apologize, or…?

“I’m just fine,” Marinette assured her, “I just had to go to the bathroom, and I got a bit distracted looking at one of the magazines in here.”

Alya snorted.  “Would that be one of Mom’s ancient home care magazines?”

“Dated 1989,” said Marinette, laughing.

“Sounds about right.  So, did you want to stick around for this interview you so graciously arranged?”

A moment of silence, and she almost thought Marinette might have somehow gotten engrossed in the magazine again.

Then… “Hm… Maybe.  Tell you what, we’ll see how it goes, and, well, maybe I’ll need to duck out.”

She opened the door, smiling lightly.

Now right in front of her, Alya had a close-up view of the jacket she’d put on earlier.

It was technically covered in patches, but most of them faded into the background, in comparison to a few that really caught the eye.

They were the symbols for Paris’ resident superheroes.  Chat Noir and Ladybug on the shoulders, Carapace on the right front, and Rena Rouge, over the heart.

It was a touching gesture, and were it not for the fact that it would have been a bit tactless, Alya would have made some comment about how she would have loved something like that for a birthday present.

Maybe she could hint at in the future.

For now, though, there was an interview to conduct, and if she wanted to keep Marinette’s attention (She’d never been Chat Noir’s greatest fan, Alya had little doubt she’d had about enough of him for the day), she’d want to keep it interesting.

The stepped back into the living room.

“Behold!” said Alya, “I have retrieved her.”

Nino clapped dutifully.

“Which means,” she said, “that the interview is on.”

“Right, sorry about it being such short notice,” said Chat Noir, “Marinette said she wanted it to be a surprise.”

“And a surprise it was,” said Alya, “but!  I’m always prepared for an interview, trust me,” she pulled up her phone, quickly maneuvering to her notes, where she kept her backup questions on hand.

She kept the questions neatly arranged into different folders, useful for all kinds of occasions.

Now…

She had a choice to make:

  1. Start with the ‘Serious’ questions folder.
  2. Start with the ‘Curiosity’ questions folder.
  3. Something else…?




	7. Who to talk to...?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alya tries to keep things light, but Marinette's acting... Strange.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Votes:  
> 1: 2  
> 2: 2  
> 3: 1  
> Earliest vote was on 2, so 2 it will be.  
> Selection: ‘Curious’
> 
> A bit of a short chapter this time.

Well… She _was_ doing this with Marinette, who, after all, had always had a high opinion of the heroes’ privacy, so-

“Where did you get your Miraculous?” said Marinette, before Alya had the chance to pick out a question.

Chat Noir practically choked.

“What?”

“I mean,” she said, “It’s not like you’d just _randomly_ find a ring like that, right?”

“Well, I mean, I…” Chat Noir seemed at a loss, against all odds, “I found it on my desk, after Stoneheart showed up.”

“Well, surely it didn’t just _appear_ there, right?” said Marinette.

“I mean…” he shook his head, and managed to muster a grin, “That’s not uncommon for superpowers, right?  Who’s to say they _don’t_ just appear where they’re needed?”

She seemed to consider it, for a second.  “Then what about Rena Rouge, and Carapace?  Surely their Miraculouses don’t vanish and reappear randomly?  For that matter, what about Queen Bee?  That definitely didn’t _look_ intentional.”

He smiled, a trifle nervously, scratching at the back of his neck, “are you angling for the secret to getting a Miraculous of your own, Marinette?”

“I think I could be a great superhero,” said Marinette, smiling.

“Super-klutz Marinette gets super _powers,_ ” said Alya, the words coming out a bit thoughtlessly, because her mind was preoccupied, “I’ve got to wonder whether that would be as much of a recipe for disaster as it sounds like.”

“Dunno, man,” said Nino, “I mean, they jump around, like, over buildings and stuff, so maybe she wouldn’t be clumsy anymore.”

“I’m game to find out,” said Marinette, with a look at Chat Noir.

“Well,” said Chat Noir, “I don’t exactly carry around, you know, spare Miraculouses.”

“I’d be more than happy to just borrow yours.”

The room went silent, and they just _stared_ at Marinette

“You alright there, Marinette?” said Nino.

Marinette gave him a look Alya couldn’t quite parse. Confused?  Annoyed?  Worried?

Unclear.

“I mean, if you don’t want to, obviously you don’t have to, I just thought it would be interesting.”

“Well,” said Chat Noir, “all else aside, I’d have to turn back in front of you guys, and, well.”

“Of course, but you could just go in the bathroom I just came out of… It’d make for great interview content, too.  Imagine, you’d get to see what the same Miraculous could look like on different people!”

Normally, Alya would have been ecstatic at the idea, but right now…  There was something in the intense focus Marinette was leveling towards Chat Noir that just… Didn’t sit right with her.

Her expression was calm, confident, and almost… Intrigued?

And then there was the way her fingers were absently tapping the patch on her shoulder… The one with the black paw.  Chat Noir’s symbol.

\--

_Name: Nino Lahiffe_

_Appearance:  Average height, build slightly wider than average.  Hair, dark brown, kept short, usually under his iconic red had.  Eyes, a warm, rich brown._

_Characteristics:  Young teenager, aspiring DJ.  Quiet and introverted, but devoted to his friends.  Currently in a relationship with Alya Cesaire, and best friends with Adrien Agreste.  He has a general dislike of conflict, though he holds Paris’ superheroes in high regard, especially Chat Noir._

\--

“Alright, alright, I get it.”  Marinette sighed, seemingly not particularly perturbed, “sorry, I derailed the interview.”

“That’s… Fine!  Just fine,” said Alya, shaking her head as if trying to get rid of some thought or other.

“So, Chat Noir,” she said, starting a recording on her phone, “I think we should start with something I think Parisians have been _dying_ to know…”

Nino leaned back, ready to sit back and enjoy the sound of Alya rapid-firing questions at Chat Noir, except…

His eyes snagged on Marinette, because…

The look she’d given him earlier was strange, and stranger still, was her posture.

She was leaned back in her chair, seemingly relaxed, physically, but her eyes were staring straight at…

She was mirroring Chat Noir’s posture, exactly, eyes flicking over him.  And her expression was strange, too, pleased, but in a worrying way.

There was no denying _something_ was off, but he didn’t have the words for it.

He should probably… Do something?

He had a choice to make:

  1. Ask her directly. With any luck, she was just in an odd mood; he’d had moods like that every now and then.
  2. Try to confer with Alya. Alya was good at this kind of thing, and better at interpreting this kind of stuff than him.
  3. Try to talk to Chat Noir. Maybe it was something personal between him and Marinette, and, if anyone would know what it was about, surely it was him.
  4. Something else…?



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter might explain a few things to you the reader. As for the characters... That depends.


	8. Fallback and Breakthrough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sticky situation, in need of a slick solution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Votes:  
> 1:5  
> Selection: Ask Marinette directly.
> 
> That's the only unanimous vote we've had this whole story!

The boy in the green stood up, and quietly scooted around the side.

She looked over, breaking her focus on Chat Noir.

“Hey, uh, Marinette,” he said, quietly, obviously trying not to disturb the other two.

Frankly, she didn’t care if he bothered them; they seemed content to chat about trivial questions, and she had no use for those.

“Yes?” she said.

“Are you… Okay?”

She looked back at Chat Noir.  His movements were rapidly becoming clearer to her.

“Of course,” she said, shifting slightly, mirroring his motion almost exactly.

“Because, you’re kind of… I don’t know… Mimicking Chat Noir?”

“Well, why not?” she said, not even looking over.  “It’s not like there’s any reason I shouldn’t, right?  Do you know if Ladybug’s going to show up?”

Nino went silent, and, eventually, in a tone that suggested he’d almost figured things out, said, “Dude.  You arranged this.”

“Oh.  Right.  Sorry, I forgot.”

And… She almost had him.

The boy knocked her shoulder, and she shook her head, and looked over, ready to _kill_ him for…

She kept her face even.

“Did you have a stroke, or…”

“Or what?”

“Or…” he stared at her, and slowly began to edge away.

“Do you think Alya’s going to ask about anything interesting?”

“Guys…?” he said, backing away in earnest, now.

“Is that a no?” she said.

“Guys…!?”

They looked up.

“What?” said Chat Noir.

“That’s not Marinette.”

“What are you talking about,” she said, laughing, “who else would I be?”

“I- I don’t know, but Marinette doesn’t act like this!”

Alya gave her an uncertain look.  “I’m sure she’s just a little out of it.  It can’t have been easy to arrange this, right?”

“No, dude, I’m serious, like, since when is this even _anything_ like Marinette?”

“I mean…” said Chat Noir, visibly considering the question.

Alya looked over, and her expression had turned concerned.

The three of them looked at her, and…

She wasn’t going to be able to talk her way out of this, was she.

She sighed.

“Honestly?” she said, “I couldn’t really tell you how hard it was to set this up.  For that matter, I don’t really remember anything.  Except… _You.”_  She pointed to Chat Noir.  “I’m going to take your ring.”

\--

No.  No!  It couldn’t be; she just looked like… Marinette!

But… She wasn’t, was she.

He stood up.

“You’re Akumatized, aren’t you.”

It wasn’t really a question.

“I don’t really remember the details,” she said, shrugging, “I was mostly just sticking around to see if you’d give anything interesting away, but, since you aren’t planning to…”

“Did a butterfly land on you?” he said, stepping closer.  She wasn’t acting hostile, right?  Maybe if he was smart…

“On me, near me… Something like that.”

“It’s in your jacket, isn’t it.”

“Now, Chat Noir, that would be telling!”

He was close, and… If he was smart about it…

She was staring at him intently, eyes skipping across him, taking in every movement.

“How about… this,” he said, “you hand over the jacket, and then I’ll give you the ring.”

Her eyes flashed, and so did her right shoulder.  The shoulder with his patch on it.

“I’ll just take the ring,” she said, and-

He bolted forward, hoping to catch her by surprise, but even before he’d started moving, she’d stepped to the side.

His hands met empty air, and her hand jabbed into his side, far harder than Marinette was capable of.

He leaned forward, air rushing from his lungs, and wildly swung out an arm, but just as before, she was missing before his arm was close.

He jumped back, and almost knocked Alya and Nino over.

“So…” he said, “Who are you?  Hawkmoth always gives his villains names.”

“I-

\--

_“-I am Hawkmoth.  There is something you wish to forget, isn’t there?  Some secret that should not have been told.  I will let you leave them all behind.  There are only a few faces I ask you to remember, and a few Miraculouses I ask you to bring me.”_

_\--_

-am Mirror.”  She laughed, “But, given the circumstances, maybe you should call me Mirrornette.”

“Puns are _my_ thing,” he said, “I don’t appreciate you trying to steal them from me.”

“Oh really?” she said.

“Mhm, it w-

-ould be Cataclysmic to try?” she finished the sentence with him.  “I know.  It would be _clawful._   _Now._   You can’t hide, and you can’t really run, either, so… How about we try that again?”

And with that, she rushed forward.

\--

Mirrornette closed in on them, stronger than Alya or Nino, and with a supernatural ability to read Chat Noir.  It would take a stroke of inspiration for them to have even the slightest chance against her.

You have a choice to make:

  1. Go back, make a different choice.
  2. Do… Something?



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In a normal Choose Your Own Adventure, this would be the part where 'your adventure has ended, please try again.'  
> This isn't exactly a normal one, though. That in mind, if you can find some way to crack through this situation, you're more than welcome to try, and if you can't, you can specify where you want to branch off from, and what you'd like to try instead.


	9. Mirrornette; Last Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirrornette is practically unbeatable at this point, but they have to try something, right? So try they will, however stacked against them the odds may be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are short versions of how the suggestions in the last chapter's comments played out.

_Chat Noir:  Get to the ceiling, escape!  With any luck, you can find Ladybug, and try again on more favorable terms._

With Mirrornette bearing down on him, he knew from what little they’d fought that he didn’t stand a chance 1-to-1.

He jumped, back and away, arm stretching out for the door to the balcony.

He heard a shout from Alya and Nino, surely Mirrornette pushing past them.

The door was open, and he was rushing out, and-

His belt, his tail, whatever it was, suddenly _yanked,_ and his feet were out from under him, and his face slammed against the balcony as he tried to crawl away.

“Sorry Chat Noir, it’s like I said.  You can’t hide, and you can’t run, either.”

He tried to knock her off, but she had his hand as he came up, and with an almost practiced motion, she had his ring between her fingers.

She barely even noticed as Alya and Nino tried to tackle her in unison, and the ring was off, and without even a look down at him, she was up and away.

\--

_Alya:  Block Mirrornette’s line of sight!  She can’t fight if she can’t see._

Alya, with what presence of mind she had, knew that she didn’t personally stand a chance in a fight, but if Chat Noir could get an advantage…

She flipped her cake up into Mirrornette’s face, and was satisfied to see her eyes shut.

Chat Noir tried to slip by, but-

_That was unfair!_

Mirrrornette, even with her eyes closed, didn’t seem even phased by it, her arm jabbing out twice into Chat Noir’s gut.

Nino, even as Chat Noir doubled over, rushed forward, trying to tackle their enemy, but even as she bent dangerously backward, she came back just as hard.

Alya matched his example; All they could do was buy time for Chat Noir, but-

A single motion of her hand, and Alya didn’t even have time to curse as her eyes opened, and her palm _slammed_ forward.

Chat Noir rose up, reaching for the jacket, but as easily as she had with her eyes closed, she blocked his hand, and with an easy motion, popped the ring off his finger.

She didn’t even need to look, ring already in hand, as she made for the window; after all, _none_ of them could stop her, now.

\--

_Nino:  Attempt to confuse Mirrornette by asking Alya to marry you!  The resulting confusion should give Chat Noir an opening._

Mirrornette was rushing forward, and he both wanted to step behind and in front of Chat Noir, but…

But what?  Neither would help.  He needed something so unexpected even a charging villain would be forced to stop.

Something like…

He pressed in front of Chat Noir, who was readying himself to fight, and dropped to one knee.

“Alya!  Will you marry me!?”

The room stopped dead.  An instant passed.

“What?”

He jerked his eyes at their enemy, and said, “I’ve been thinking about it for a long time,” true enough, “and I think that today is the perfect day to ask you, and… Will you?”

“I… Of course!  I know we’re only 14, but I know that—”  Mirrornette was awkwardly sliding around to one side, as Chat Noir visibly backed away toward the window “—If there was ever to be someone I’d spend my life with, it would be-

The tension snapped, as Mirrornette pounced.

Chat Noir tried to bolt, but he was on the ground in an instant, and before either of them had a chance to switch their focus, the ring was off his finger, and Mirrornette was up and away.

\--

_Chat Noir:  Cataclysm the floor!  She’s a tricky fight, but shaking up the circumstances might give you a chance._

It might be panic, or something more tactical, but Chat Noir knows that a straight on fight holds no hope for them, but… If she’s falling…

“Cataclysm!” he shouts, hand pushing down to the floor.

He looks up, ready to jump away from the collapse (Sorry Nino.  Sorry Alya.) but she’s already flying at him, arms outstretched.

He tries to leap to the side, and she catches his leg, and they _spin,_ in midair.

He reaches down, trying to lay his hands on the jacket, but she _yanks_ him, and suddenly he’s underneath her and-

He has only the barest sensation of hitting the floor, and then his vision goes black.

By the time he wakes up, she’s long gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, Mirrornette isn't an easy fight, or even really possible, barring some serious slick maneuvering. That's why the last chapter was marked as a probably ending rather than a normal fork in the road.  
> Now, following this, we'll be going back to the choice from chapter 4, and taking option 1.


	10. Help!?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Marinette's emotional state is vastly improved by Alya's explanation, Chat Noir slowly sinks into panic at his overabundance of bad options.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Option 1, branching from chapter 4.  
> Selection: 'Explain to Marinette why she wasn't too worried about telling Chat Noir about Adrien. (Emphasis on not making this out to be Chat Noir's fault)'

“Oh!  Right, sorry,” she said, “I guess I didn’t… Explain, about, that.”

Marinette’s expression was visibly hurt.

“Well,” she sighed, “it was kind of a joke?  Nino and I were wondering why you were late, and then we were talking about how Adrien couldn’t make it, and then we sort of…”

“Stuck the ideas together,” supplied Nino.

“That, yeah.  Except… Chat Noir kind of walked in at an inopportune moment for that?  Not, you know, his _fault_ or anything, just that we’d left the door open because we had no idea you’d come up with the interview idea, and… Well, it was pretty obvious he knew what we were talking about, so… I figured if he already knew, saying that was… Well, no worse than saying it to you alone.”

Marinette’s expression softened slightly, and she looked over at Chat Noir.

Chat Noir scratched nervously at the back of his neck.  “I mean… I did kind of overhear some stuff.”

Marinette obviously wasn’t happy.  She sighed.  “Well.  I guess there’s nothing to do about it now.”

“Sorry,” said Alya, and she _was._   “This is a bad way of repaying a birthday gift.”

“It’s not really your fault; it’s not like you knew he was coming, like you said.  Honestly, I didn’t even know he was coming.”

“…Oh?”

“I have a busy schedule,” said Chat Noir, “so even I didn’t know I could come until earlier.”

“I see.”

Marinette laughed, and the sound actually seemed genuine.  “Chat Noir was more like a backup anyway.”

Chat Noir scoffed. “I _protest,_ I am never just a backup!”

“I’ll let Alya decide that one,” said Marinette, bringing up the thing that she’s had under her arm.

Black, and leather, and…  Alya squinted at it, as it-

Flew directly onto her face.

She snorted with laughter as she pulled it away.

A leather jacket?  Her eyes focused, and she recognized…

Rena Rouge’s fang, right… Right over the heart.

She pulled back, suddenly worrying that Marinette had-

But there was Carapace’s symbol right across, and Ladybug on a shoulder, and, Chat Noir on the other.

Ah.

“Well,” she said, “You know I’m always a sucker for hero-themed clothes.”

Nino snorted, and she planted an elbow in his ribs before he could say anything about her underwear drawer.

“I certainly do,” said Marinette.

“But… You know what’s better than superhero clothes?” said Chat Noir.

She looked up.

“The whole superhero.”

“Oh right, and you, sticking around for maybe an hour or two is better than a jacket that sticks around for years?” said Marinette.

Alya looked back and forth between them.

“Well…” she said, sliding the jacket on, “I think we’ll have to make that decision after we see how well Chat Noir interviews.  You’re going to have to do a pretty good job, because this thing is _comfortable._ ”

“And now you know why I had you give me your measurements,” said Marinette, sitting down beside her.

“I sure do,” said Alya, demonstratively sliding her shoulders around to feel the leather slide with it.  “And… There’s no Queen Bee on this, I’m assuming?”

Marinette shrugged.  “I was considering it, but… I didn’t know where to put her, and also she’s Chloe.”

\--

Externally, he was laughing, because, in all honesty, he couldn’t blame them for not adding Queen Bee, but internally…

Had that… Not been a joke?  If Marinette had laughed when Alya had mentioned it, he’d have assumed It was some running gag they had between them, but instead…

Marinette had gotten defensive.

Marinette had gotten defensive, and had reacted exactly as he’d have expected someone to react if their secret had been… _Really_ shared.

He could do an interview in his sleep, by now, but that wasn’t the challenge.

No, the challenge was the fact that _Marinette apparently had a real, actual crush on him._

On ‘Adrien,’ of all people!

What was he supposed to _do_ with that!?

He passed through the interview in a daze.  It seemed Alya was pleased with the content she’d gotten, judging by her demeanor as he’d said his goodbyes, but he couldn’t have even given someone a hint what he’d been asked about.

In retrospect, he probably should have offered to take Marinette back home, and tried to use that to learn more, but then again, she was clearly sensitive about the subject, so really, it was probably for the best that he hadn’t.

…

It had been at _least_ 10 minutes since he’d checked the clock, and it had been 9:10 then.

His mind felt like it was chasing itself around in circles.

The idea of just, _letting the whole thing go_ seemed unthinkable.

Equally unthinkable was prying further.

Chat Noir didn’t have the slightest right to ask any of them about it.  Alya and Nino would almost _certainly_ clam up, judging by the fact that Alya had been visibly apologetic about it at the time…  Marinette herself?  Marinette was the only person who could consider herself as having the right to tell someone, but she clearly hadn’t liked that he’d heard about it, so how could he possibly…?

And Adrien?  _Adrien_ had missed the whole thing for… At least since Glaciator had… how had he _missed_ that?  Surely if his powers of observation had been better than a green tomato, he would have _noticed…_ noticed what?  Had she… Maybe she’d just been good at concealing it, carefully avoiding conversations with him, and constantly switching her words in an effort to…

To…

His face turned pink as another wet fish slapped him in the face…  Marinette didn’t just like him, she got _awkward_ around him because of it.

And the worst part was, that didn’t actually change the fact that there was no easy justification for Adrien noticing her crush on him immediately after Chat Noir had found out.  More to the point, what would he _do_ if he were to ‘notice?’  Turn her down?  Accept it?  He’d already reaffirmed his commitments to Ladybug after Frozer had attacked!

Except, of course…

What had Marinette said?  That Ladybug didn’t feel that way about him?

But then, what was _he_ supposed to do with that?

Even if he were to, and the words passed through his mind slowly, ‘move on from Ladybug,’ that would take _time._   Time during which he couldn’t properly say one way or another towards Marinette, for fear that his judgement was clouded.

And if he couldn’t tell her one way or another, he’d be forced to leave her hanging if he investigated the subject.

And how was he supposed to just _leave this?_

He let out a groan.

He looked over, in hopes that-

Plagg was already shaking his head in a ‘not my problem’ kind of way.

And, _and!_   As if everything else wasn’t enough, the lesson that had been cancelled today, that had freed up this accursed time slot for him, was filled in tomorrow, so there was every chance that Chat Noir would be just as locked down as Adrien!

He stared up at his ceiling as if hoping for some kind of divine inspiration to strike him, and slap the rising panic from his body.  There were too many choices, and none were good.

But still, he had a choice to make:

  1. Attempt to let things sit, and hope time would eventually reveal more, and that he wouldn’t panic.
  2. Talk to Marinette as Chat Noir, and hope she wouldn’t mind to much about him asking _another_ prying question.
  3. Talk to Marinette as Adrien, and hope for the best?
  4. Talk to Nino?
  5. Talk to _Alya?_
  6. Talk to… Chloe? Alix?  Max?  Would _anyone_ be able to help him here!?
  7. Nathalie? His bodyguard?
  8. Press Plagg for advice, however weak it might be.
  9. ~~Just… Panic harder, and hope getting turned into an Akuma might shake things up and settle them down.~~
  10. Something else!?



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations. Adrien is fairly desperate. He'll probably listen to some comparatively out-there suggestions.
> 
> In other news, his father isn't even on the list of people he might ask about this.


	11. Follow or Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien, unable to find a way out for himself, goes to the only remaining person he can think of who might be safe to ask for advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Votes:  
> Nathalie: 6  
> Plagg: 1
> 
> I suppose 'only' person isn't quite correct. There's always his bodyguard, but he's not particularly verbal.

What was he supposed to do?  _What_ was he supposed to do?

Okay.

The first thing, was that he needed to not panic, right?

Well, failed step one, but he needed to not panic _more._

He took a deep, deep breath.

The good thing, he supposed, was that he was pretty sure Chat Noir wasn’t in any good position to see anyone tonight.  Marinette at least needed time to sort things through, about as much as he did.

So…

So what?

He quietly mulled things over in his head for what felt like half an hour.

At one point, he sat up, and-

“Hey, Plagg?”

“No.”

“Ah-“  He shut his mouth.  “Not in the mood for advice.”

Plagg gave him an unimpressed look.  “I _really_ can’t talk about this one.”

Adrien gave him a confused look, but Plagg refused to say anything more.

He laid back, tired and anxious hoping that, maybe…

Maybe…

\--

_Name: Nathalie Sancoeur_

_Appearance:  Slightly taller than average, and dressed formally in formal black, with a red turtleneck underneath her jacket.  Her hair is short and black, with a red streak.  Behind her glasses, her expression is held nigh-emotionless, almost constantly._

_Characteristics:  Personal assistant to Gabriel Agreste, where she is paid appropriately for the work she puts in, which is to say, she is well paid.  Calm, and very difficult to unnerve.  She has a knack for projecting a deadpan, emotionless façade, which is only partially an act.  Though she does her best to keep the point unmentioned, she does in fact care about her employers, including, despite her best interests, being deeply in love with Gabriel Agreste, which may be the reason that she has not reported his supervillainy to the police._

\--

Nathalie was eternally busy, what with Mr. Agreste on the one side, eternally needing this person or that person contracted, or needing her to buy a moment for him to go create a supervillain, and Adrien on the other side, which his countless lessons, and destinations, and the haggling that went into figuring out whether he was actually allowed to do something of his own volition.

And, she was caught in the middle of it all, like the admiral of some terrible fleet where the boats kept almost crashing into each other.

Had it not been for…  Anyway, the point was that she _did_ do her job, and she was well compensated for it.

And so, she had _done_ her job, and as such, she knew for a _fact_ that her work was done for the day by 4:00… Barring any particularly unexpected requests from Mr. Agreste, which, in fairness, did happen occasionally, especially if he found a promising patch of negative emotion.

She had expected to give Adrien his final briefing for the day, and leave it at that.

What she had _not_ expected was-

“Nathalie?”

She stopped, hand on the door, and turned.

“Yes?”

“Uh…  Can I… Ask you a question?”

She was experienced at keeping her face blank, but she couldn’t help a bit of worry at that.

“Of course,” she said, even as she mentally prepared herself for something awkward.  He was 14, after all; this could go worrying directions.

“I…” he scratched at the back of his neck, and sighed.  “I… May have found something out I wasn’t supposed to.”

Her stomach went cold, and she couldn’t quite keep a twitch out of her expression.

She didn’t say anything, and, sure enough, he continued.

“And… I can’t really tell anyone else about it?”

“I see,” she lied.

“And… Could you… Not tell father about… this?”

She looked at him steadily, and then…  No, she might as well tell him the truth.

“As long as it doesn’t affect your safety, or your father’s hopes for you.”

He laughed, at that.

“I thought you’d say something like that.  It doesn’t… It’s… Not even on my end… Or… Well…  There’s a girl.  In my class?  Someone I know.  A… A friend, actually?”

“…Yes?”

“Well…  I found out, recently, that… Apparently, she… Likes me?  Like, _like_ likes me?”

Nathalie nodded.  “The one who brought you your notes?”  It seemed a bit long ago to be ‘recently,’ but unless he was talking about a _new_ classmate-

His eyes went wide.  “Wh-  How did you…?”

She blinked.  Had he… not noticed that?  Nathalie hadn’t misremembered a doodle of her _blowing him a kiss_ on the attached note, right?  And the scarf… Well, he had never found out about that, to her knowledge, so he could be forgiven on that score.  Frankly, she was pretty sure he liked her back, from how he talked about her, but that wasn’t for her to mention.

Adrien was looking around, dazedly.

“Y- yeah.  Her.”

There was a long moment of silence.

“You had a question, I believe?”

“Oh!  Right, I…” he sighed, shaking his head.  “I’m not even supposed to know about it.  I don’t know how I’d… Well, _handle_ it, even if they _knew_ I knew.  And they _don’t!_   So…  What do I do?”

Nathalie was a little unnerved by the fact that he was coming to _her_ for advice.  That in mind…

“Wouldn’t your other friends be better suited to answer this question?”  She mentally regretted the words, because ‘his other friends’ included such notable favorites as the boy who had ranted at Mr. Agreste outright, and the girl who had pieced together the most about Hawkmoth of anyone in the city; in short, not the people Mr. Agreste would like her to point him towards.

“Well… That’s the problem.  They’re _her_ friends, too.  So… If I ask them, they’ll tell her, and then she’ll _know._ ”

“I see.”  She considered it, and… There was nothing for it, was there?  “This isn’t my area of expertise, but I doubt you thought it was.”

He laughed, nervously.  “No… Not really.”

She nodded, slightly, and walked over to Adrien’s couch, where he’d been standing.

She wished she had a clipboard, but… Well, what would she even have on it?

\--

“Do you feel the same about her?” said Nathalie, in the same matter-of-fact tone she usually used.

“Wh-“ he managed, before his mind actually got it hands on the words.  “I-  No!?  She’s…  She’s a very good friend of mine, but that’s all!”

Nathalie looked at him an instant longer than was comfortable, as if trying to figure out whether he was lying, or…

“Are you willing to let her go on like this?”

“I…” he sighed.  “She shouldn’t have to.  Liking someone who doesn’t like you back… It’s not fun.”

He realized he might have let a bit too much slip, but there was no telling with Nathalie.

To his surprise, she nodded, solemnly.  “Of course.”  Did she…

“Then your only choice seems to be find some way to make it clear that you know without revealing how, and then turning her down.  Politely, if possible.”

“You make it sound so simple, but…  How am I supposed to have ‘figured that out?’  Even if I had, how do you just… _do_ that?”

Nathalie seemed unimpressed, which was strange, considering he hadn’t even been _trying_ to impress.

“As for the first part, doubtless you could find some outward symptoms.  I believe she has trouble speaking around you?  Very careful about making sure you like her?  Doubtless you can find some more. As for the second, I doubt there’s any advice I could give you.”

“I… I see,” he said, a little unnerved that she’d apparently picked up on this so easily.

Although… The way she’d agreed that an unrequited crush was unpleasant… It seemed like she had personal experience.

Ah, but for now…

He had her advice, and he had a simple choice to make.

  1. Follow Nathalie’s advice.
  2. Something else…?



**Author's Note:**

> I just want to briefly mention that 3 (or whatever the last option might be) is up to you guys (rather than a mystery option). 1 or 2 are set, but if you want the last option, please specify what alternate route you would prefer, and just remember, just because you can nudge people however you like, doesn't mean they have to listen.
> 
> Example; if you tell Marinette to share her secret identity she'll pretty much never listen, and she'll probably be kind of disturbed by the urge to do so.


End file.
